Vigilance: The Bull
by OwlBeWritingYouFrequently
Summary: This is something Mal will not stand for, and he will take action. TRIGGER WARNING: Allusions to sexual assault.
1. Vigilance: The Bull

**Author's note: Thought of this idea after rewatching the entire series with my family. There are some allusions to sexual assault and some cursing so be wary**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly or any of its characters though if I did it would not have ended**

Vigilance: The Bull

Inara's heart thumped wildly against her chest as she docked her shuttle back into Serenity. Two days ahead of schedule and there were bound to be questions. Inara closed her eyes as the shuttle locked into place, though her body did not relax.

_"I _paid _for you, that means you're mine!"_

The words echoed in her mind and she shuddered. She could still feel his hands gripping painfully on her arms, his tongue attempting to invade her mouth…

She swallowed the lump in her throat and allowed herself to go to her mirror. Her lip was still bleeding. Bruises scattered along her neck, shoulders, and arms. It was less often than not that a customer would try to overpower a Companion, but it still happened. And this was not the first time it had happened to Inara.

But this was the first time she was not able to defend herself.

Inara allowed thoughts of the experience to subside, though they still whispered quietly in the back of her mind. She cleaned the blood from her lip and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. Ultimately she decided upon avoiding the crew at all costs. Someone was bound to come inquiring as to why she had returned so ahead of schedule but for the meantime she would not go looking for them. Inara took a deep breath, trying to forget. Deep down she knew she never really would.

* * *

><p>Kaylee stared at the entrance to Inara's shuttle. Questions bounced around in her head but something stopped her from addressing them. She crossed her arms and chewed her lip. Mal thumped up the cargo bay stairs and stared at the girl.<p>

"What're we starin' at?" he asked as he reached the top. Kaylee's head bobbed as she pointed a finger toward the newly docked shuttle. His eyes followed her pointing. He cocked an eyebrow.

"And?" Kaylee pursed her lips.

"'Nara's back early," she said.

"Huh," he grunted. Mal looked back at the young mechanic. He could see that she was bothered by this fact. True, it piqued his curiosity as to why Inara had returned ahead of schedule, but he felt no reason to worry as Kaylee seemed to be doing. His eyes went back to the door.

"Wonder why," he said, taking a step toward the door. Kaylee put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Maybe you'd ought not to, Captain." She didn't know why but something inside her was telling her that perhaps Inara wanted to be left alone. But the captain was a stubborn man who found joy in irritating others.

"Nonsense," Mal said with a smile. Kaylee let her hand drop to her side as he walked up to the door and let himself in without knocking.

"Afternoon," the captain said, strutting into the shuttle like a peacock.

"_Gāisǐ de_, Mal!" Inara shouted. At the sound of the door opening she had shot up from her position on the bed, wrapping the shawl even tighter around her shoulders. She kept her back to Mal.

"Easy now, Inara. No need t'be so vocal." Had she seen the cheeky look on his face and the way he'd put up his hands in fake innocence she would have rolled her eyes.

"What do you want?" Inara said. Mal's face fell, all manner of playfulness faded. Her tone had not been one of her usual frustration that she used with the captain. There was slight frustration in her voice, though underneath it was something else. Aggression or fear, he thought. And why wouldn't she face him? His face became one of concern as he walked over to where she stood. Still she did not turn around.

"Somethin's wrong," he said sternly. Inara swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She shook her head.

"No, everything's fine." She'd tried her best to keep her voice steady and calm but couldn't quite keep the tremble from her words. Mal lifted his hand as if to put it on her shoulder, but couldn't bring himself to touch her.

"Inara," he said. His voice had held the authoritative tone of an order, but both knew it was not an order. Inara chose to act, however. She closed her eyes and turned around. Through the hair hanging on her neck Mal saw the faint traces of deep purple coloring. He noted the way she clutched the shawl too tightly around her body. He wanted to reach out and sweep the hair off of her shoulders and push the shawl away from her frame. But this was one of the few times that he would acknowledge that he mustn't push her if he wanted answers. Mal stared down at the Companion and waited.

They stood in silence for several minutes. At last, Inara took a deep breath and let the shawl slide off of her body. Mal's eyes widened in horror. Two hand shaped bruises on her arms just above the elbow, several smaller bruises around her collarbone and neck. Inara lifted her face to gauge his reaction. She gasped at the sight. Mal was absolutely livid. His eyes, remaining on the markings, were burning with a fury she had never seen before. His jaw clenched and unclenched, causing veins to pop on his neck. His fists too clenched, until the knuckles turned white. His breathing picked up, nostrils flaring like a bull. Inara could see him shaking from the sheer rage that surely coursed through his blood. She nearly stepped back out of fear.

"Mal," she tried as calmly as she could, for someone had to be. He swallowed and Inara could see the difficulty with which it went down.

"Who did this to you?" the captain asked through his teeth. Inara searched for his eyes but he would not tear his gaze away from her arms and neck. Mal couldn't think straight. All of his thoughts were of his hands around a neck, fingers on triggers, anything that would torture the bastard.

"Mal, please calm down." She kept her voice quiet, though she longed to scream. He did not react.

"Mal," she said firmly. No reaction. Inara tentatively reached out a hand. She rested it on his cheek. At her touch his eyes met hers.

"Please," she almost begged. His body still read anger but his eyes softened slightly at the sound of her plea.

"Who then?" Mal's voice was still strained, though not as harsh. Inara's hand fell and she looked away.

"Just forget it, there's nothing you can do." The fire returned to Mal's eyes.

"No, there is somehtin' you can do," he fumed. Inara stepped away from the infuriated man, crossing her arms.

"Oh? Should I report him to the Alliance?" she spat. For a split second all of the anger and fire left Mal's body like the sudden stillness in the eye of a hurricane. Inara couldn't go to the Alliance because of him. Should she go to them she's never be able to come back to Serenity. Inara couldn't be affiliated with the ship or crew in any way.

The man who did this to her would get away with it. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. He decided he would guilt himself later. As quickly as it had left, rage flooded him once more. He took a step toward the Companion.

"You can find the _āng zāng de bàilèi bèndàn_ and show 'im that he ain't allowed to do that to no one." Inara's shoulders drooped.

"You know I can't do that," she said.

"Then tell me who he is and I'll do it for ya." She turned around slowly.

"And let you get yourself into more trouble with the Alliance? I can't let you do that."

Another punch in the gut. Mal's face fell somewhat.

"He'll receive a black mark," she continued. "That's the best I can do." Her gaze wandered to the shawl on the floor. Mal did not know what to say. He was angry; both at the man and at himself. Not knowing what to do, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the shuttle. Inara had watched him leave, allowing the tears she'd been holding in to slip out.

Mal wandered back to his bunk. He sat down on his bed and grabbed his gun from the side table. He stared at the reflection on the murky surface. He spat on it and wiped it on his shirt. Once it was shiny again, he pointed it at an imaginary target across the small room.

"He'll pay," Mal promised himself.

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated so please do. ****I don't know if I'll do a sequel. If I get enough inspiration maybe I will, otherwise we'll just call this a oneshot.**

**Translations (I used Google translate so sorry if these aren't really accurate, please feel free to correct me)**

**Gāisǐ de – Damn it**

**Āng zāng de bàilèi bèndàn – dirty scum fucker**


	2. Vigilance: The Horns

**Author's note: So wow I decided to do a sequel cause I got enough inspiration. Thanks to anyone who reviewed and asked for a sequel. This one is sort of violent (I guess?) so be weary, and I apologize if characters seem a bit OOC**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly or any of its characters**

Vigilance: The Horns

"You ever heard a saying about a bull?" With a gag in his mouth the man could only grunt in frustration. He pulled harder at his restraints, his breath coming short and quick through his nostrils. The chair thumped violently on the floor. The other man paid no attention to him, choosing instead to polish the knife he held.

"No?" the man teased. He put a foot up on the chair and rested his elbow on his knee. "Well, they say that if you mess with the bull, you get the horns." His voice was almost cheerful, his face playful. He poked the tip of the knife with his finger to test its sharpness. Without warning he twirled it in his hand and brought it up to his hostage's cheek, all manner of joking gone. He brought his face close to the other man, their noses just inches apart.

"You messed with the bull. Here are the _tā mā de_ horns." The man stared up in terror. He let out a muffled cry as the knife was pulled away from his face, slicing the flesh. His captor stood tall, face wild and livid. The man seethed for a few moments, then abruptly kicked the chair over. The bound man's head slammed into the ground and he let out another cry. He kept his eyes closed but heard the other man's footsteps and heard him kneel down. He felt a hand on his face, forcing his eyes open.

"This ain't gonna be no short affair. I intend to make you suffer long and hard." His voice was fierce but did not shake with anger. Still it struck fear in the man's heart as he had meant it to. He registered the knife being lightly scraped in small circles on the ground. A large sound resonated from the opposite end of the room. Both men turned their attention to the door. It opened and behind it was a woman with a smoking gun.

"_Gāisǐ de_, Mal," Inara reprimanded, lowering the gun. The bound man gaped at the woman, assuming she had come to aid in his demise. The man above him stopped scraping the knife and stood up.

"What're you doin' here?" Mal asked. Inara could see his frustration hiding the rage he felt for the man at his feet. She crossed the room and, to his surprise, pulled the chair up to its original position. The man flinched at the action, sweat dripping down his face. Mal's brows came together in confusion.

"What the hell do you think yer doin'?" Mal exclaimed. Inara faced him with the eyes of a wolf. She shoved him in the chest.

"What the hell do you think _you're_ doing?" she retorted. Mal took a step back. "You enter my shuttle without my permission, access my log book unauthorized, and here you are holding this man hostage!" Mal's face returned to anger. He sheathed his blade and stared her straight in the eye.

"This man hurt you, and now I'm hurtin' 'im back. It's only fair," Mal hissed. Inara did not like the man she was looking at. Mal was possessed with rage and vengeance; he had murder in his eyes. She clenched her jaw and spat back:

"You're not helping me by killing anyone, Mal. You never will." The words struck him in the chest like a brick; they stung him deep down. His eyes flitted away, attempting to conceal the guilt her words produced. Inara was surprised her words had hit him so quickly. Why was he so affected? There had been numerous times they'd said hurtful things but never had she seen him take it to heart so suddenly. She only meant that killing would never help anyone. But she'd made it seem like he could never help her no matter what he did. She realized the double meaning behind her statement and sought to amend it.

"How would murder solve anything?" she continued, her voice softer; her tone less harsh. "It would only give the Alliance more incentive to bring you down." She looked away.

"And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you." Mal's eyes flicked back to her face, confusion once again gracing his features. But as a pinkish hue filled her cheeks he couldn't help but chuckle. Her head whipped back at the sound. She cocked an angry brow at him.

"Why, I'm touched Inara. Who knew you could be so sentimental," he teased. She rolled her eyes, but allowed herself to smile. It was then that they remembered the man tied up beside them. Throughout their exchange he continued to try to wriggle his way out of his bindings. Mal looked to Inara for judgment, raising an eyebrow.

"Leave him," she concluded. "He'll be found eventually." Mal nodded and made to leave. Inara turned to face the man. She gripped the back of the chair with one hand and leaned in so her face was mere inches from his. His eyes opened wide and he focused on nothing but the menacing look she gave him.

"You will tell no one of this, Heston Skentler," she growled. "And you will never hurt another person again, or I _will_ let him end you." He gulped out of fear as she stood upright again. And with the most satisfying crunch she had ever heard, Inara punched him in the nose. Mal heard the loud crack and the man's muffled scream as his foot crossed the threshold. He paused at the sound and turned around to see the blood running down the man's mouth, chin, and neck. Inara stood proud, her fist at her side. Mal laughed at the smile on her face. She hurried over to the door and the two exited the room.

* * *

><p>Back on the ship, several questions had passed regarding Mal's disappearance followed by Inara's disappearance and her bloodied fist. Several more whispers passed behind closed doors as to the reasons, which had gone unanswered.<p>

Mal and Inara walked up the cargo bay stairs in an oddly pleasant silence. When they reached the top, Mal made to go the opposite way of Inara's shuttle. But a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to face the Companion.

"Thank you, Mal," she said. Mal swallowed and looked down. He seemed almost embarrassed.

"Yeah, well, you're on my crew," he stumbled. Taking a chance Inara stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, letting her lips linger on the surprisingly soft skin. Mal froze. His eyes grew wide and he fund he could not breathe. When she pulled back she chuckled and rolled her eyes. She turned on her heel and headed for her shuttle. Mal shook himself, allowing himself to register what had happened, but not letting it overcome him.

"You're welcome," he finally answered. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. He grinned crookedly back at her. She entered her shuttle and shut the door. Mal, too, turned and headed for his quarters. Once in private, he sank down on his bed and sighed.

"She'll be the death of me," he muttered to himself.

**Thanks for reading. Once again, reviews are always appreciated so please do if you would be so kind.**

**Translations (and once again I used Google translate so please feel free to correct me if these are wrong)**

**tā mā de - motherfucking**

**Gāisǐ de - damn it**


End file.
